


Working title: Gerard Way's Amazingly Heartfelt and Eminently Helpful Sex Education Video

by LadySmutterella



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Misunderstandings, Panties, Pining, Porn, Rimming, Sex Education, Spanking, Summer of Like, Warped Tour 2005, improper use of a spatula
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 15:45:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10166288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySmutterella/pseuds/LadySmutterella
Summary: It's not like Gerard's been secretly harboring fantasies of a career as a porn director, or anything, but Frank isinspiring– and besides... the kids need to know how to do things right.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MsPeppernose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsPeppernose/gifts).



> About a million years ago Jiksa and I promised MsPeppernose a story. This is that story. Jiksa contributed a massive amount to it, and anything you enjoy is probably down to her. Thank you, darling, working with you is such a pleasure. My thanks as well to Trojie for handholding and cheerleading when the world was cruel and dark. I don’t deserve either of you. 
> 
> (also because I am cheeky, this is the free choice square on my bingo card. Sorrynotsorry)

It's not like Gerard's been secretly harboring fantasies of a career as a porn director, or anything. Because he hasn't.

It's just. Well. It's Warped Tour 2005 and he's newly sober and it's a million degrees and there are screaming kids _everywhere_ and the whole thing feels a little bit overwhelming. Ray's all thumbs up and pats on the back, Bob has exactly one facial expression for every situation (bored? concerned? murderous?), Mikey keeps fucking off with Pete Wentz at all hours of the day and night, and for some reason, no matter where Gerard goes, the bus or the portapotties or catering or backstage, Frank is somehow _right there_ beside him to make sure he's drinking enough water and reapplying sunscreen and not freaking out.

It's nice, he supposes. Frank's a good friend. Nice guy. Easy on the eyes. Good for the soul. It's just... it's just a bit _much,_ is the thing.

The first hotel night of the tour finds them huddled on either side of a sagging couch in a decrepit motel room while everyone else is off drinking themselves into a stupor. Frank unearths a fuzzy VHS from somewhere and it's... whoa – okay, should've seen that coming, because that's some porn right there, naked bodies being porny together in a porno, and it's not like he’s never watched porn with his band before but not when it's been this quiet and this sober and this lacking in booze and substances and appropriate excuses for such casual consumption of explicit imagery. And it's just the two of them, fully dressed and sober on either side of a musty couch in a dead quiet motel room, and Gerard should probably just relax and enjoy it but instead he becomes very acutely concerned about the dehumanization of human intimacy in the digital age and unrealistic representations of sexual practices and how _children_ are probably learning about sex from this nonsense and setting themselves up for failure and misunderstandings and disappointment.

It's not far from there to the creation of Gerard Way's Amazingly Heartfelt and Eminently Helpful Sex Education Video (Working Title), but let's not get entirely ahead of ourselves.

They're somewhere in the Midwest on the first hotel night of the tour, Milwaukee or St. Louis maybe, in the cheapest motel they could find after a long day of driving and playing and even more driving. Gerard’s tired and overstimulated and weirdly emotional. The TV’s fuzzy and old, with a cluster of dead pixels in the top right corner and somehow impossibly hooked up to a VHS player. On-screen, a skinny guy with shaggy black hair drops to his knees and sucks a big, fat cock into his mouth. The cock in question is attached to a hairy guy in a police uniform with a pretty impressive mustache. There's a soundtrack of drums and saxophones. There's moaning. Oh god, there’s _dialogue._

And Gerard doesn’t really know what to do about all this. He knows Frank's sucked a few dicks and fooled around with a few guys when he's been blitzed enough on pills or booze, but as far as he's aware it's never quite been Frank's thing. Frank tends to reach for videos of girls going down on each other, ideally girls with tattoos and long eyelashes and nice tits and absolutely no mustaches.

Which means he's chosen this video because he thinks Gerard's into it. Which, okay, it's grainy and cheesy and awkward, but it's still a pretty plump mouth going to town on a fat dick and Gerard is only human after all… but that doesn’t mean he’s _into it_.

"Uh," Gerard mutters, trying to sound neither horrified nor turned on. "This is terrible."

"Mmm," Frank says distractedly, tossing over the well-worn VHS casing. "It's free porn at a shitty motel in Bumfuck Nowhere, Gee. Lower your expectations."

Gerard reviews the back of the VHS cover, noting more burly gentlemen with mustaches and more skinny twinks with pretty mouths and nice asses. "Where did you even get this?"

"Front counter. It was this or Erin Brockovich or porn with pissing in it. I think Avenged Sevenfold cleaned them out before I got there." Frank laughs brightly. "Whoa! This guy has no gag reflex, I swear to God."

Gerard can't quite bring himself to look, but he hears the hairy man on screen growl, _"That's right, boy, you suck my baton and I won't have to take you downtown,"_ so he's probably got a roughly accurate idea of what's happening. Instead he watches Frank sprawl casually back against the couch and take the first drag of his cigarette past his lips. A long beat passes as Frank's flat chest swells with smoke, before it spills white and slow from his parted pink lips. He sucks his lip ring between his teeth, his tongue briefly tracing the curve of the metal before he turns his head. “What?”

Gerard clears his throat, immediately turning his eyes back to the screen. The guy on his knees is getting his face unceremoniously fucked and staring blankly into the camera through teary eyes. "Uh,” he starts before he really knows what he’s going to say. “When're the guys getting back?"

"Dunno." Frank’s voice is low, rough as gravel as he leans closer to share his cigarette. "I don't think Mikey's coming back at all, if you get my drift."

"Ugh." The last thing Gerard wants to think about right now is his brother doing anything above or below or anywhere near the waist with Pete Wentz. The burly cop on screen manhandles his captive twink until he's bent over the hood of his police cruiser and holding his ass cheeks apart. The kid’s wet and stretched already, his hole gaping from the plug Gerard assumes he wore before the cameras started rolling. _"Please officer, don't put your big cop meat in my tiny butthole,"_ he begs and okay, what, no, come on. "Frank, this is actually gross."

Frank rolls his eyes and snatches his cigarette back as Officer Hairy McMustache holds the kid down and roughly fucks into him. Gerard winces in sympathy. "Don't be such a prude."

"I'm not a prude, I just like sex to be between people who are nice to each other and occasionally make eye contact. This is just meat in motion."

"So it's not lovemaking on flower petals," Frank argues, gesturing towards the close up of the cop inserting Tab A into Slot B in a rhythmic fashion to a soundtrack of exaggerated moaning. "Somehow everyone's still enjoying themselves."

"That's not what I mean," Gerard sighs. "It doesn't have to be slow or sweet or whatever, but like, realistic? He didn’t even put on a condom or finger the guy or use any lube. Can you imagine kids watching this and thinking this is what sex is supposed to be?"

“It’s not an instructional video, it’s a porno. You’re meant to beat off to it, not take notes.”

“Same thing though. I mean, if you’re a young kid and this is your only frame of reference before you start having any sex of your own, you’re gonna go into it with some really fucked up expectations.”

"It's not that far from it, is it? You fool around for a bit, stick it in, everyone has a good time and goes home happy?"

"Yeah, but." Gerard sighs, taking in the scene playing out on screen. "Like, having your ass played with is the _best_ thing, right? Not just as a _very necessary_ warm up if you’re about to stick a dick in there, but like, a wet tongue or a few fingers or whatever just feels really good. And guys make the most gorgeous sounds when you do it to them. Right?”

Frank chews on his lip ring and shrugs and doesn’t look at Gerard. “I guess.”

Gerard hesitates because -- oh. “You mean you haven’t-- not even with yourself?”

“None of your business, Gee. What’s your point?”

“Um.” Gerard feels suddenly hot all over and can’t quite remember what point he was making. He can feel a slightly hysterical ramble coming on.“That porn should be… you know, realistic. And you know, show that moment when the person you're with takes their clothes off and they're _so heartbreakingly beautiful_ that you just have to kiss them everywhere and convince them that they're pure unadulterated magic, right? And when you get your hands in their underwear and they're wet or hard or whatever and you kiss the moans from their mouth and, like, _feel_ every part of them responding to you and you look into their eyes and they're so completely fucking _there_ with you and you're _there_ with them too. And then you sink your fingers into them and their eyes go all wide and soft and trusting. When someone's on their knees for you and you brush the bangs out of their eyes and tell them they're making you feel good and you both know it's not about giving or taking, that it's a mutual thing. When you're fucking someone and you're so deep inside them and they let themselves go in your hands and they fall to pieces underneath you... Like, porn doesn’t catch any of those things."

The cop pulls out of the twink's ass and jerks himself off on the kid's face. The kid's staring blankly into the camera again. "This is just kind of sad in comparison; there's no intimacy there. The top should've laid that kid out and eaten his ass and gotten him crazy for it and then only fucked him when he was begging for it, you know?"

The scene fades to black and it's eerily quiet for a moment. Frank puts out his cigarette and carefully folds his hands over his lap. He clears his throat. “It’s just porn.”

"I guess," Gerard says awkwardly as the video fades into another scene. This one seems to be prison themed and set to a tacky electronic beat. "I'd just hate for the queer kids who come to our shows to watch this shit and think that's all they can expect from sex, you know."

Frank turns the TV off, before bringing his knees up against his chest. Gerard barely recognizes his voice when he says, "Maybe you should make porn like what you said, then."

Gerard risks a glance to his left. Frank's cheeks look a little pink, his eyes a little glazed, like he's been smoking weed and not just cigarettes. "What, like Gerard Way's Values-Based Antidote to Exploitative and Misrepresentational Mainstream Porn?"

"Nah." Frank smiles, his eyes strangely soft. "Like Gerard Way's Amazingly Heartfelt and Eminently Helpful Sex Education Video. Show the kids how it's done."

Gerard laughs. "Yeah, maybe."

Frank looks like he's going to say something for the longest time, but then he shakes his head a little. "I, uh. I need a shower. You gonna be alright by yourself for a little while?"

"You don't have to babysit me all the time. I'm fine."

He watches Frank gather up his toiletries and pyjamas with his back turned. "Not babysitting, Gee. Just making sure you're cool."

"I'm cool," Gerard says once Frank's slipped into the bathroom. He doesn't think about what it means that he's hard, and that Frank was maybe possibly kind of hard, and that neither situation seemed to be caused by mustached men in police uniforms.

He listens to the water turning on in the bathroom and doesn’t think about Frank stepping under the spray and taking himself in hand.

\--

They get an entire two days off in a row barely a week later. It’s like a message from the gods or something, at least that’s what Gerard is going with as he borrows a camcorder from one of the techs.

The show had run late last night, and as they all knew they didn’t have to get up this morning, Gerard’s fairly sure they kept drinking after he’d headed off to commune with a bed of his own that didn’t move. So, he’s not exactly surprised when he knocks on the door of Frank’s room and Mikey answers, his eyes slitted against the daylight and his hair looking like something’s nested in it. 

“Morning!” Gerard says, obnoxiously loud and cheerful. “You got Frank in there?”

Mikey just grunts and slumps back into bed beside an alarmingly undressed Pete Wentz, leaving Gerard to follow him into the muggy darkness of the room. 

He picks his way across the floor, trying to avoid the trail of dirty clothes, until he reaches the lump of bed sheets and snuffling noises that he takes to be Frank.

“Hey,” he says, perching on the edge of the bed and poking the lump until it makes a noise that could be construed as _awake_. “Frank. Frank. Frank. Frank.”

“Wssssggs?” Frank sits up and Gerard looks away from his sleep-warm skin and the tattoos that trail off under the blankets. He’s got to stay focused here.

“C’mon.” Poking a semi-naked Frank seems like a bad idea, so Gerard bounces on the bed instead. “I got a camcorder. We got the day off. Let’s _do_ this.”

“Do what?” Frank asks, and Gerard looks at him, shocked. 

“Our video!” He waits, but the confusion doesn’t clear from Frank’s expression. “You remember?”

“The sex one,” Mikey says, the sigh obvious in his tone. “Come on, Frank. You brought this on yourself, you know.”

“Shit.” Frank flops down on the bed and rubs his hand over his eyes. “You were serious about that?” 

“Of course he was.” Mikey sounds almost amused. “Now, go and do this fucking thing so I can sleep.”

Frank groans, but he clambers out of bed, digging around on the floor until he finds clothes. Gerard carefully averts his eyes and does his best to ignore the sound of rustling fabric and zippers until Frank bumps him with his knee. 

“C’mon then,” he says, nodding at the door. “Let’s use your room so Mikey can get his ‘beauty sleep.’” 

Judging by the vaguely suspicious movements taking place beneath the blanket covering Mikey and Pete, beauty sleep may not be the only thing Mikey gets this morning. It’s gross, and Gerard does his best to ignore Mikey’s laughter and the mocking _good luck_ that follow them out the door. 

\--

“What do you want to do?” Gerard asks as the door to his room closes behind them, leaving them alone with the air heavy and uneasy between them. Who would have thought making a poorly thought-through sex tape with your hungover, mostly-straight, intensely supportive band mate would feel this awkward?

“Fingering,” Frank says, rushed and slightly breathless. “You said they didn’t do that. You know. When we watched that video.”

“Oh,” Gerard says, forcing himself to concentrate in the face of a million images of Frank spread open and writhing around his fingers, Frank leaning over him, fingering him with the same intense concentration he uses while he’s playing. “Cool. So, um…”

 _Who does this_ he doesn’t ask, but Frank seems to hear him anyway. 

“You wanna demonstrate on me?” he asks, but he’s biting his lip and his cheeks have gone really pink. 

“Sure,” Gerard says, blinking and trying to will away the twinges of arousal he’s feeling. This is about educating the kids, not getting his rocks off. “Um, if you’re okay with that.”

“Yeah.” Frank shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I mean. You need someone to um…” He breaks off and looks away. “It didn’t sound that bad when you were describing it the other day.”

“Oh,” Gerard says again, like a broken record. “Cool. So…”

“What do you want me to do?” Frank asks, and he looks so absurdly hopeful and brave and scared that Gerard forces himself to take a deep breath. Frank needs him to be sure here, needs him to know what he’s doing… especially if he hasn’t done this before. 

“Take your clothes off,” he says, fighting to keep his voice steady. “And get yourself comfortable on the bed. I’m gonna set up the camera, ‘kay?”

He turns away, busying himself with the camera so he doesn’t have to deal with Frank taking his clothes off in front of him. He’s getting naked because he’s supportive of Gerard’s artistic vision and sociopolitical motives, not because he actually wants to be naked with Gerard. 

By the time he’s lined up the shot, Frank’s on the bed and he’s just finished pulling the sheet over his cock. 

“How do you want me to be?” he asks, and Gerard has to bite his tongue to hold back the wholly inappropriate noise he wants to make. 

“What’s most comfortable for you?” he asks instead, finishing framing the shot and pressing record, before stepping back and making sure he can see the little red light blinking. Frank just bites his lip though, like he doesn’t know what to say, so Gerard goes and sits next to him on the bed. “Why don’t you just lie back, okay? Try to relax.” 

“Sure,” Frank says, his voice breaking into a laugh. “You’re gonna stick your fingers up my ass for a sex video. S’gonna be easy to relax.”

It reminds Gerard why they’re doing this and he glances at the camera then back to Frank.

“That’s kinda the point, though,” he says, putting his hand gently on Frank’s knee. “If you can’t do this stuff, if you can’t talk about it, then maybe you shouldn’t be having sex with that person.”

“What do you mean?” Frank asks, narrowing his eyes in suspicion, like Gerard’s insulting his masculinity or something, and Gerard shakes his head in disbelief. 

“Sex should be fun, and it should be safe, and you should be comfortable doing it. If we were actually going to have sex now, would you really enjoy me being close enough for me to stick my dick in you if you weren’t able to relax about me putting my fingers in you first?”

“It’s different,” Frank says, jutting his chin up. 

“How?” Gerard gently pushes at Frank until he leans back on the bed and rests on his elbows. “What makes this different?” He pats his lap, and Frank bites his lip, but he swings his leg around, bending it over Gerard’s lap, letting his thighs fall open. Gerard bites back a gasp, fighting to keep a straight face. He runs his hand up the soft skin of Frank’s inner thigh, keeping his eyes on Frank’s rather than looking at how he’s letting himself be spread open even as he fists his hands in the sheets. 

“Dunno,” Frank says, his eyes tracking the movements of Gerard’s hands as he reaches for the lube and flicks it open. “Just… If you were fucking me you’d be getting something out of it too. This is…” His voice catches as Gerard reaches down and traces over his hole with a slick fingertip. “Different.”

Gerard hums, shifting around a bit and finally looking down at Frank, at how he’s keeping himself spread open for Gerard, even though Gerard can see just how tense the muscles are in his thighs. 

Frank’s really hard already, and it’s not like Gerard’s been thinking about Frank’s cock… but… well. It’s a nice cock. Thicker than Gerard was expecting, even given how Frank’s jeans tend to cling on stage. A cock like that could be distracting if Gerard wasn’t such a professional. 

“Not so different,” he says, starting to circle his fingers around Frank’s hole over and over, listening for the little noises Frank’s starting to make. “This can be just as fun.”

“Sure,” Frank says, and Gerard is fairly sure he means to be mocking, but it comes out breathy and unsure instead. 

“Anyway,” Gerard says, mostly for the camera. “If you can’t trust me to do this, how can you trust me not to hurt you? Or that I’d stop if you asked me to?”

“What?” Frank asks, incredulous. “Like you wouldn’t stop anyway?”

“Of course I would!” Gerard says, on the very edge of snapping. “Just. People don’t always feel safe or comfortable enough to say stop sometimes.”

“People?” Frank asks, a thread of anger to his tone, but Gerard doesn’t want to get into the fucked up situations he used to get himself into before he got clean. 

“People,” he says, flatly. “If they’ve been drinking or if they don’t know the person they’re with that well, or if they don’t want to offend anyone. That’s why this project is important, okay?” 

Frank looks heartbreakingly sad for a moment, but then he nods and relaxes. “It’s important,” he says. “I get it.”

“So…” Gerard chews his lip. “You should tell me to stop if you need to.” 

“Right.” Frank scrunches his eyes closed and flops back on the bed. “I’ll remember that.”

“Yeah,” Gerard says, and pauses, wondering if he should stop this anyway, just because Frank seems so awkward. But then Frank sighs and lets his legs fall a bit further apart, shifting so he rubs slightly against Gerard’s fingers. 

“C’mon,” he says. “Can’t have the kids that follow us not knowing how important this is.” His eyes fly open. “You better cut this part out though.”

“Yeah, sure.” The relief that bubbles through him is a surprise. “Whatever you want, Frankie.” He pets the soft skin on the inside of Frank’s thigh. “Can’t have everyone seeing you’re human.”

Frank makes a scoffing noise, but he’s not coiled so tightly now. 

“Go on then.” He wriggles back on the bed, spreading his legs properly. “Let’s make a sex tape.”

“Right.” It’s not like Gerard’s forgotten that… It just hasn’t been top of his mind for the last few minutes. He takes a breath, trying to find a space where he’s a presenter or something, and not just about to finger one of his best friends on camera. 

Okay, so there’s no point pretending this isn’t a _bit_ weird, but hell. Gerard’s a performer – _Frank’s_ a performer – and they can do this. So he pastes on his best interview smile, then tones it down a couple of notches when Frank instinctively flinches back, and turns to the camera. 

“Hey,” he says. “Welcome to the most amazingly useful sex tape you’ll ever watch. I’m Gerard, and this…” He leans back so the camera can see Frank, “is how to finger someone.”

There’s a hysterical second after he says that when the ridiculousness of what they’re doing hits him and he considers calling the whole thing off but then Frank’s fingers wrap around his other wrist, where it’s hidden from the camera and he remembers that this is about something bigger than the two of them. The squeeze of Frank’s fingers give him the courage to keep talking.

“Now, you might be doing this to stretch your partner before you penetrate them with something larger like a toy or a dick, or you might be doing this simply because they enjoy it. Both are valid reasons.” He gives the camera his best earnest look. “The most important thing, whatever you’re doing, is that you have your partner’s consent, and once you have that, that you make sure they’re comfortable.” There are other things he could say here of course, but the memories from when he was using still feel too vivid, too recent, and he doesn’t want to freak Frank our any more than he already has. “Is the room warm enough? They’re gonna be lying there naked, and it’s really easy for them to get cold. And make sure your nails aren’t jagged, and you haven’t got any cuts on your hands, or broken skin.”

He holds his hand up to demonstrate this, but decides to save the safe sex lecture for another time. 

“You don’t want them to feel awkward,” he says, then pauses, thinking. “Or you shouldn’t anyway. Not unless you’re doing some kink thing, or you both enjoy disappointing sex. Check in with them! Consent _is_ important, and enthusiastic consent is way better. People are entitled to change their mind during sex, you know, and you’ll only know if you keep checking in with them.” 

He glances at Frank, and the stupid, fond smile on his face, and raises his eyebrow in question.

Frank snorts, rolling his hips, making it blatantly clear how hard and flushed he is. “Yes,” he says, archly. “I am enthusiastically consenting, Gee. Do your thing. Go for it.”

Gerard shakes his head and turns back to the camera. “So, when you’re doing penetration of any kind, lubrication is key. Seriously, you can’t have enough lube.” He holds up the tube of lube he’d bought in the drugstore earlier and squirts it liberally over the fingers on his right hand, grinning as it drips down onto the sheets. “Sex is always best when it’s messy.”

“Right...” He shifts himself so he’s kneeling beside Frank, reaching down between Frank’s legs, and doing his best to remember that he’s being a professional here. “You should start off slowly. It helps your partner relax – especially if they feel nervous about this, and some people do. There shouldn’t be stigma to any sort of sex, but we grow up with a lot of weird messages, y’know? Anyway, even if they don’t need to relax, it can feel amazing. The ass has all these nerve endings, and well…” He skates his fingers over Frank’s ass, and looks back over his shoulder at Frank. “How does that feel?”

“Good,” Frank says, his voice breaking slightly on the word. “I mean… weird? But, uh, yeah…”

His cock is starting to twitch as Gerard watches, and the point of this isn’t either of them getting off, but it still makes Gerard happy. It means he’s doing something right after all. 

“Just keep things slick,” Gerard says. “Keep adding more lube – and take your cue from your partner.” 

He looks down at Frank and the way he’s worrying his lip between his teeth and how his hips are starting to move, pushing his ass against Gerard’s fingers

“Hey,” he says, putting his clean hand on Frank’s shoulder and Frank’s eyes fly open. “Can I…”

“Yeah,” Frank says, wriggling on the bed so his legs spread wider. “Gee…”

“S’okay,” Gerard says. “You can ask me to stop. Remember?”

Frank nods his head, and his eyes slip closed again as Gerard pushes gently, slowly, feeling Frank’s muscles giving way for him. He can’t look away from Frank’s face, though, and it’s overwhelming, getting to watch everything that Frank’s thinking as he feels Frank, hot and tight and velvet soft around his finger. 

“Fuck,” he says, heartfelt. “Frank…”

Frank makes a wordless noise of want, and for a second Gerard can’t remember why he isn’t kissing Frank right now, but he catches sight of the merciless red blink of the camera and it hits him like a shock of cold water. This is about the kids, about creating sex positive imagery to combat the gross, sad porn available out there, not about his stupid inconvenient crush on Frank.

“Take it slow,” he says, sitting up a bit and trying to pretend he hadn’t just forgotten what he was doing and why. “Especially if your partner isn’t used to doing this. Wait for their muscles to get used to what you’re doing before you start switching things up.” He looks down at Frank. “You ready for another?” he asks and Frank nods, his eyes closed as tight as they can be. 

The room feels too warm, too dry as Gerard leans forward and drizzles lube over his hand where it’s pressing into Frank, doing his best to ignore how hard Frank is now. He glances up at the camera and licks his lips, not sure what to say. 

In the end he pushes Frank’s thighs further apart with his free hand, then sinks another finger into Frank, slow and steady and listening for Frank to make any noise that might show this is hurting him. 

He doesn’t, in fact Gerard can feel him trying to fuck himself further down on Gerard’s fingers. It’s only the position that Gerard’s in that means he can’t; Gerard’s got all the traction here and he soothes his other hand down Frank’s thigh, stilling him. 

“This is where what you’re doing is gonna depend on why you’re doing this,” he tells the camera, doing his best to pretend his voice isn’t shaking. “If you’re preparing your partner for penetrative sex then you want to make sure they’re properly slicked up and stretched. You can do this by stretching out your fingers like this…” He pauses when Frank groans, low and needy, but Frank doesn’t say _stop_ , so he relaxes his fingers again and looks back up at the camera. “Or you can add more fingers, as slowly as you need to. Just remember that everyone needs different amounts of stretching, and that can vary each time you have sex, so don’t be afraid to ask or to take it at your own pace. You need to listen to how you feel on that day, not just how you felt last week or whatever. This isn’t a competition, and until you know what your body can do and what you like, you should always be a bit more cautious.” He’s rubbing Frank’s thigh again, he realises, but it would look weird if he stopped now, so he continues, letting the sensation ground him. “If you’re just fingering your partner because they enjoy it, though, now is the moment that you might want to look for their prostate.” 

He twists his hand, starting to press up, searching, ignoring the small, quizzical noise Frank makes. 

“You need to press towards the front of your partner’s body, and you’re looking for a small bump that…” He breaks off, smiling, as Frank groans and his cock bounces on his stomach, smearing wetly as it touches the back of Gerard’s arm where he’s leaning over. He pauses just long enough to check that Frank’s still with him before he continues. “Yeah. Your partner’ll let you know when you find it. Keep it gentle to begin with, though, lots of men feel this differently and you’ll find that some men are more sensitive than others. If you move your fingers like this…” He holds up his free hand, beckoning towards himself with two fingers and mirroring the action with his other hand. “Then you can control the pressure and speed, and your partner can shift so they can move away if the pressure is too much.” Underneath him, Frank shifts and Gerard can feel he’s using his fingers to rub against. “Not many men find it easy to come from prostate massage on its own, but you can jerk your partner off, or give them a blow job at the same time if you--.”

“Fuck,” Frank whispers, like a prayer, and his muscles constrict, squeezing tight and rhythmically around Gerard’s fingers as he comes. 

\--

“I didn’t even touch him,” Gerard says later in a low voice to Mikey. It’s a struggle keeping his voice down, but Bob’s asleep on the couch and will literally kill anyone that interrupts his nap. “It was just a demonstration! I wasn’t trying to get him off!” 

Mikey snorts, not bothering to look up from his comic. “Like that’s a surprise.” 

Gerard feels his cheeks flame. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Yeah.” Mikey looks up, raising one eyebrow eloquently. “Sure.”

Gerard looks away. There’s no point arguing with Mikey when he gets like this. Frank’s must just be really sensitive to prostate massage, he decides as he picks up a comic of his own. That’s all there is to it. 

\--

 

The best thing to do, Gerard decides once he’s mostly stopped freaking out, is to go ahead and film the next sequence. 

This is a project – this is _important_ – and one mistimed orgasm shouldn’t stop him from telling queer kids how great sex can be if you do it right. 

Of course, this is easier said than done when Ray refuses point blank to help out with the next scene.

“But why not?” Gerard asks, trotting to keep up with Ray who is using his unfairly long legs to escape across the parking lot. “It’d be fun!”

“It would _not_ be fun,” Ray says, his cheeks burning red and his eyes fixed on the horizon. “It’d be _awful_.”

“It’s a blowjob,” Gerard says, just a little too loud, and three techs who’d been smoking in peace look up with slightly horrified expressions. “Blowjobs are always fun.”

“It’s a blowjob on camera,” Ray says, blushing even more furiously. “From you. No part of that sounds fun to me.”

“Dude.” Gerard stops in his tracks. “That’s _hurtful_. I give _great_ blowjobs.”

“I’m sure you do,” Ray says, rolling his eyes. “But not to me, and not on camera.” 

“But it’s for science!” Gerard says, using the fact that Ray’s stopped too to catch up with him. “You don’t want the kids who come and see us play thinking that the blowjobs they see in porn are normal, do you?” He shakes his head. “They need to know about consent and realistic expectations.This is about sex positivity and positive role models and social responsibility. This is fucking important, Ray.”

“Yeah,” Ray says after a while, biting his lip. Gerard’s talked him into all sorts of insane artistic shit over the years, and he’s well aware of how this particular project blows everything else out of the water, but he hasn’t felt this passionate about anything since he gave up drinking and he needs Ray to have his back on this. Ray sighs. “But I’m straight.”

“No one is straight,” Gerard says, because he _believes_ this. “And kids need to see that bisexuality is a thing.” 

“I dunno,” Ray says, but he looks like he’s wavering, so Gerard plays his trump card. 

“Frank did it,” he says. “I mean, not a blowjob, but one of the scenes for the video.”

“Frank would,” Ray says darkly, then he sighs. “Fine. I’ll do it, but you need to do one of your talks making it clear that one blowjob doesn’t make someone gay.”

“Of course!” Gerard slings his arm around Ray’s shoulders. “It’s a blowjob between bros. A brojob. That’s all.” 

“Say that again,” Ray says, fixing him with a look, “and I’m not doing this anymore.”

\--

It’s only when they get back to the bus and Ray starts to pull off his jeans that Gerard spots the obvious problem. He isn’t even hard, is the thing, and it’s still _enormous_.

“Shit,” he says, his eyes fixed on the front of Ray’s boxers. “I gotta sing later.” 

“Oh.” For a second Ray looks almost disappointed, then he shrugs and does his belt up again. “Some other time, then.”

“Nope.” Gerard knows if he lets Ray weasel out of this now there will never be another time. “No. Hang on.”

He leaves Ray staring after him, a look of confusion on his face as he dashes out of the bus and towards the bench that he’d seen Frank and Dewees on earlier. 

“I need you,” he says, grabbing Frank’s arm, hauling him up and doing his best to ignore James’s laughter. “Important video project business.” 

“What?” Frank sputters, but Gerard doesn’t have time for this – he needs to get Frank back to the bus before Ray gets distracted and wanders off, or worse, comes to his senses and backs out. 

“Need you for the next scene,” he says, in the hope it will make Frank more compliant, and to his surprise it does. Frank stops struggling at least and starts trying to keep up with Gerard.

“What scene’s this one?”

“Blowjobs,” Gerard tells him, and Frank nearly trips up. 

Frank’s unusual compliance lasts all the way back to the bus, and Gerard’s started feeling cautiously optimistic which is, of course, when it all goes wrong. 

“Ray?” Frank asks with something approaching horror, and Ray looks no less horrified himself. “I’m not trading blowjobs with _Ray_.”

“No,” Ray says, getting up from where he’s been strumming something on his guitar. He’s still in boxers, but he quickly reaches for his pants. “No way am I letting Frank near my dick.” 

“Wait,” Frank says, bristling. “What? I give _great_ blowjobs. What do you mean you’re not letting me near your dick?”

“That didn’t work when Gerard said it, and it’s not working now.” Ray is starting to look fierce, and Gerard’s starting to wonder if he should have asked Bert if he’d have helped out with this bit when Frank surges forward and pushes Ray back down.

“I give _way_ better head than Gerard,” he says dropping to his knees between Ray’s legs and starting to undo his belt. He shoots Gerard a look over his shoulder. “Get the camcorder, Gee. Gonna make you eat your words, Toro.”

He’s not hanging around so Gerard takes his blessings where he finds them and grabs the camcorder, positioning himself so he can catch what’s happening. 

He’ll have to give the sexual orientation talk later, for sure, because Frank’s pulled Ray’s cock out and for everything Ray’s said about being straight, he’s half hard already. Not that Gerard blames him. Hell, _he’s_ half hard and he’s not the one that Frank is kneeling in front of, looking up at with dark eyes. 

It’s only when Frank turns and raises an eyebrow that Gerard remembers he’s meant to be presenting this thing, and he clears his throat, feeling his cheeks burn. 

“Okay,” he starts. “The most important thing to remember about blowjobs is, despite their name, there is no blowing involved. There can be sucking, licking, mouthing…. Whatever you want, really, apart from blowing. The second thing is to be careful with your teeth.”

Frank rolls his eyes at that and shifts his attention back to Ray, putting his hands on Ray’s thighs and leaning forward until his lips are resting at the base of Ray’s cock. 

“You don’t have to go charging in,” Gerard yelps as Frank messily licks up the length of Ray’s cock. “Teasing is good. Licking and kissing. Sometimes it’s a visual thing as much as how it feels.” 

Frank licks Ray’s cock again, filthy and slick, then starts mouthing messy kisses up the side of it, avoiding the head as best he can. Ray groans, but doesn’t look away. His eyes are fixed on Frank, and Gerard can’t blame him. Frank looks beautiful on his knees. 

“You might want to play with your partner’s balls,” Gerard says, then his eyes widen as Frank shifts his position. “Or lick them. Licking’s good as well.” 

Ray’s really fucking hard now, and Frank meets his eyes as he sucks his balls into his mouth, before letting them fall free with a filthy sucking noise. He doesn’t look away the whole time as he runs his open lips up Ray’s cock until he’s licking at the head of it, tiny kitten licks that make Ray hiss and tighten his hold on the edge of the seat. 

“The head of the cock is the most sensitive part,” Gerard says, and his voice sounds like it’s coming from a million miles away. “You can see how it’s swelling as Frank licks it, especially…” He pauses as Frank looks direct at the camera and runs his tongue just under the head. “Yeah… the frenulum.” 

He rolls the word around his mouth, his eyes fixed on Frank’s until Ray groans, low and needy. 

“Fuck, Frank,” he says, his voice cracking. “ _Please_.”

Frank grins, wide and wicked, and leans forward to suck the head of Ray’s cock into his mouth. 

“The trick here,” Gerard says, “is to cover your teeth with your lips. That stops you catching anything sensitive with them by accident.” He looks at Frank, who’s holding the head of Ray’s cock in his mouth and – if the way his jaw is moving is any indication – doing something complex with his tongue. “Remember that it’s not a competition. You don’t have to choke yourself to prove it’s a good blowjob. Sucking the head and using your hand to jerk off the rest can work really well if you want to have a bit of control over what’s going on.” 

He looks at what Frank’s doing, the tight hold he’s got on the base of Ray’s cock, the way he’s drooling, slick and messy as he sucks. 

“Don’t worry about saliva,” Gerard says. “Messy sex is the best, and anyway, if you’re jerking him off, it helps if everything feels really slick and good…”

He’s going to say more – about jerking people off and respecting your limits – except then Frank takes his hand off Ray’s cock and sinks his head down until his nose is brushing the base of Ray’s cock. Gerard can see Frank’s throat working, and he feels something bitter and uncomfortable burning in his chest.

“Or you can deep throat,” he snaps, struggling to keep up with Frank and struggling to draw breath. “Be careful of your gag reflex, though. Breathing through your nose will help, and keep swallowing. Trust me on this.”

Whatever Frank’s doing, it’s working. Ray groans and tangles his hand in Frank’s hair to guide his pace. He isn’t rough as such, but his knuckles are white around Frank’s curls and Gerard’s vaguely irritated that he isn’t being more careful with him.

“That can be useful,” Gerard says, barely bitter at all. “If your partner guides you a bit…”

He breaks off, because no matter how much Ray’s enjoying this, Frank’s groaning louder and Gerard can see how he’s shifting so he can press his cock into Ray’s leg. It’s hot – amazingly so – and Gerard has no idea why he’s feeling so uncomfortable.

“So,” he says, trying to keep his voice breezy. “That’s how to do a blowjob.” He waves a hand at Frank and Ray, hoping to wrap this up somewhat professionally. “Guys, you got anything you want to share?”

He’s expecting them to stop – honestly he is. Ray’s straight, and Frank’s doing this as a favour. But… they don’t. Ray is cursing softly under his breath, and Gerard’s fairly sure he can see his heterosexuality waving goodbye from the other side of the parking lot. Frank’s moaning like a whore, and they both seem to have forgotten that Gerard’s there. 

“Guys?”

“Jesus,” Ray pants, “Frank…”

He tightens his hold on Frank’s hair as his hips buck up and oh. So that’s what Ray’s orgasm face looks like. 

Frank sucks him through it, sucks him until Ray is squirming and Gerard can tell how over-sensitive he is. Sucks him until Ray finally pulls him free with a filthy sucking noise, and Frank looks up at him with wide eyes and starts fumbling with his belt.

It’s a step too far and Gerard drops the camera so he can knock Frank’s hands away, barely able to contain his anger.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he snaps, his voice louder and more hysterical than he intended it to be. “He just came in your fucking mouth!”

“Yeah,” Frank says, his eyes narrowing like he’s squaring up for a fight. His eyes look a little unfocused, dark and lust-blown beneath the anger. “I know. I swallowed.”

“You didn’t have to,” Ray chimes in weakly.

“S’fine,” Frank says, shrugging. “Doesn’t bother me.”

“Haven’t you even heard of safe sex?” Gerard asks, disbelieving. “You didn’t negotiate that at all! That was…” He flails his hands. “That was as bad as rape.”

The words hang heavy in the room and Ray sits up, looking mortified. 

“Shit, Frank,” he says, and he sounds honestly distressed right now. “I’m sorry. I never meant...”

“Don’t.” Frank scowls at Gerard then turns his back on him to focus on Ray. “I knew you were going to come, Ray. I know how cocks work. I’ve got one of my own.” He puts his hand on Ray’s leg and strokes his thumb over his knee. “If I hadn’t wanted you to come in my mouth I’d have pulled off, okay?”

“Really?” Ray sags back in his seat. “You sure?”

“Course I’m sure,” Frank says, knuckling Ray in the thigh. “C’mon, dude. Don’t make a big thing outta this.” He raises an eyebrow at Ray, and when Ray finally nods, he reaches out, tucking Ray back into his pants and doing up his belt. “Now, go get me a coffee or something.”

“Cool,” Ray says, standing up and resting his fingers against Frank’s cheek. “Thanks.”

Frank just smiles and watches as Ray leaves before he turns to face Gerard.

“That was so completely fucking out of line,” he says, his voice hard.

“He came in your mouth…” Gerard starts, but Frank holds his hand up.

“Yeah,” he says, squaring up to Gerard even though his belts still undone. “In _my_ mouth, and I let him. You don’t get to say shit about that, understand?” He kneels up, his eyes like flint and fixed on Gerard’s. “You definitely don’t get to make Ray feel like a fucking rapist just because you decided you didn’t want his cock in my mouth.”

“That wasn’t it…”

“Bullshit,” Frank says. “You weren’t centre of attention for once and you didn’t want either of us to come.”

“That wasn’t…” Gerard tries. “I…”

“Just leave it,” Frank says. “I’m gonna go and jerk off.” He gives Gerard an assessing look. “You want to give me a hand?”

Gerard recoils. “Jesus. Frank. You can’t just--”

“Whatever.” Frank hauls himself to his feet and shoves past Gerard none too gently. “Do what you want.”

He stomps back to the bunks and Gerard hears the sound of his jeans hitting the floor.

He hesitates a second and then Frank groans, and Gerard doesn’t know how to explain that it isn’t like that as he all but sprints out of the bus.

\--

For some reason it’s easier to avoid Frank after that. 

Well, not completely, because it’s Warped and they’re a band and even if they weren’t on stage together, they’re stuck in, like, 20 square feet of space for _hours_ between shows, and there’s no way you can avoid someone in those circumstances. 

They don’t talk about what happened, though, and in the end even Ray starts to relax and stops flinching whenever Gerard says anything to him. 

Gerard doesn’t think Frank’s forgiven him. He watches him through narrowed eyes when Gerard hasn’t even had his first mug of coffee in the morning, he’ll sit next to Gerard when other people are around and Gerard can’t do anything about it, he’s all over him on stage – and he vanishes the moment the set finishes. 

It’s driving Gerard crazy.

Worst of all is at night, when Ray and Bob are snoring and Mikey’s off somewhere with Pete, and Gerard can’t sleep. That’s when he can hear the little noises Frank makes in his bunk, the soft sound of skin on skin, the little bitten-off whimpers that Gerard remembers all too clearly from that damn video. 

It’s not enough, or too much, or something, and Gerard can’t sleep and can’t even get off properly because every time he tries, Frank’s face is all he can see. Getting off to that feels wrong, and Gerard’s starting to feel like a teenager again what with all the inappropriate wood he’s sporting. 

It’s that that gives him the idea for the next section of the film. Masturbation. It’s obvious, really. The kids who watch them are mostly teenagers, and gay or straight or one of the amazing things in between those two, most teenagers get luckier with their own hand than they ever do with another human – Mikey being the obvious exception.

It’s an excellent idea, and he’s still smiling at his own cleverness when he grabs the camcorder the next afternoon and goes to find the cleanest bunk.

He isn’t going to be disturbed – the others are all busy with tour things or tech things or Wentz things – so he shucks his jeans and t-shirt and stretches himself out like an artist’s muse, and he needs this so badly he barely feels ridiculous at all. 

He only realises he’s in Frank’s bunk when he roots around for lube and finds it under the book he’s seen Frank buried in over the past few days. It makes him pause… but in the end the thought of doing this _here_ , surrounded by Frank’s scent and using Frank’s lube… well. It’s too good an opportunity to pass up. 

He checks that the camera is capturing him then wriggles on the bed, enjoying the feeling of Frank’s sheet against his skin.

“Today’s section,” he says, feeling languid, excited in a way he can’t explain. “Is about masturbation. Jerking off. Beating it.” He looks at the camera and raises an eyebrow. “Call it what you want, it’s one of the funnest things you can do by yourself.” 

Frank’s bed is clean – he’s even made it before he left – but it still smells like him, and Gerard luxuriates in it, letting himself relax properly for the first time in days. 

“Most people make the mistake of thinking that jerking off is all about your cock. It isn’t.  
You’ve got a lot more skin than the few inches there, and if you were making love to someone else you wouldn’t just jump to that.” He smiles. “Why do you deserve anything less?”

He teases his fingertips up and down his torso, partly for the camera, partly cuz he does like it and jerking off on tour is usually fast and furtive by necessity. Not being rushed, being able to put on a show, is a rare treat. 

“Nipples are fun,” he says, circling them with his thumbs. “Just teasing…” He hisses out a breath and looks at the camera, sucking two fingers into his mouth. “This is good.” He pulls them across his nipple and feels it chill and harden. “Or you can pinch them.” 

That makes him groan, and he temporarily loses track of the camera and the video in favour of how this feels. 

He knows he’s on a time limit – there’s people and commitments and things he needs to think about – but he’s surrounded by _Frank_ and that makes it very hard to care about anything else. 

It’s dangerously easy to imagine Frank watching this, watching _him_ – far too easy to imagine Frank’s fingers stroking his stomach, his thighs, his balls...

He groans again and feels his cock jerk against his stomach. He _wants_ , but he’s performing, so he reaches for the lube. 

“I know I keep saying it,” he tells the camera, “but lube’s your best friend when you’re having sex – even when you’re having sex with yourself.” He squeezes the tube liberally into his hand and hisses as he slicks it over his cock. “It’s always colder than you think, but sometimes…” He bucks his hips, sliding his dick through the slick, loose hold of his hand. “Sometimes that feels good as well.” 

He starts stroking himself, keeping his grip light enough to be teasing. 

“There’s no need to rush this. I mean… sometimes you want to get off fast and dirty, but sometimes you should take time over it.” He looks through the camera at the kids who’ll watch this eventually. “You’re gonna enjoy sex with other people more if you know what works for you – and you’re only gonna find that out if you try some stuff for yourself.”

That makes him think of Frank, of how he’d never – probably never – even fingered himself. It makes him wonder if Frank’s done it since; if Gerard had showed Frank something that he liked. He wonders if that’s why there’s lube in Frank’s bunk and he groans, tightening his hold on himself and speeding up his strokes. 

“Fantasies are fine,” he says, slightly breathlessly as the image of Frank on his knees, his plump lips wrapped around Ray’s cock, dances to the forefront of his mind. “Fantasies are great. Don’t stress out about them – they’re just fantasies. They’re like dreams. They don’t mean anything, you know?”

He takes a deep breath in, trying to force himself to slow down, but the scent of Frank is all around him, and the idea of how Frank would look if he was here now, if he was sucking Gerard’s cock, hits him right in the gut and he’s really not slowing down or holding back at all. 

“When you see someone every day,” he manages to say, “you can get confused about them. But just because you’re thinking of them when you jerk off doesn’t mean anything. I mean…”

He’s close now, so close… far too close to stop when the curtain covering the bunk jerks back.

“Frank,” Gerard says, breathless and comes all over his stomach as Frank stares at him, his cheeks pink and his mouth open. 

There’s no way he can bluff his way out of this – no way he can pretend he was doing something else, and he bites his lip as the come cools unpleasantly on his stomach and Frank’s eyes flick over his hand, his stomach, the camera, before settling on the lube.

“What the fuck are you doing in my bunk?” he asks, even if the answer if painfully self-evident. “Is that my lotion?” He narrows his eyes. “Were you sniffing my fucking pillow?”

The only thing to do, Gerard decides, is to brazen this out. “It’s the only clean place on the bus,” he says as haughtily as he can, sitting up and turning the camera off. “And it has the best light.” He glances at Frank, whose lips have gone dangerously thin. “And it’s the quietest. Because it’s away from the parking lot and…”

“Just… stop.” Frank steps back, looking away. “Clean up and get out.”

He looks properly angry, not just the sort of frustration that you feel when someone takes the last of the coffee, or uses the last of the hot water, and the bottom drops out of Gerard’s stomach. 

“Wait,” he says. “Stop.” He drags in a breath and pulls his hand through his hair, wincing when he realises he should have wiped his hand first. “I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have got pissy with you and Ray. I just…”

“You what?” Frank asks, but he doesn’t look as angry as he has for the past few days now. 

“I dunno.” Gerard shrugs. “This tour’s doing my head in. Can’t drink, can’t get high. No one to fuck.” He bites his lip and looks up at Frank from under the spill of his hair. “I feel like I’ve been losing my mind a little. I messed up and I’m sorry. Forgive me?”

“Ugh.” Frank sags like his strings have been cut. Gerard waits until Frank looks up, his mouth twisted into something that could almost be a smile. 

“Okay,” he says, knocking Gerard’s knee with his knuckles. “Just don’t fucking do it again.”

“Course not,” Gerard says then pauses. “And you’ll help with the rest of the film?” He can’t keep the pleading out of his voice; he doesn’t really try. “It isn’t the same without you.”

“Okay,” Frank says. “But we need to tal…”

He breaks off as Bob comes in and starts rummaging through his bunk for his laptop, not blinking an eye at the sight of a naked lead singer in the rhythm guitarist’s bunk.

Frank watches him with wide eyes, then, when Bob settles down without saying a word, he sniggers and he passes Gerard his jeans.

“Buy you a coffee,” he says like all the tension of the last few days had never happened, and Gerard beams, suddenly ridiculously warm and happy. 

\--

“We need to talk,” Gerard tells the camera, “about consent.”

Next to him, Ray moves like he’s thinking better of being here, and Gerard puts his hand on Ray’s knee, shooting him an apologetic smile. 

“Consent comes in many forms,” he says, and if he’s being honest he’s talking more to Ray than the imaginary audience now. “It’s not just someone saying yes – even though that is a major part of it.” He shoots Ray a look out of the corner of his eye. “It’s more than that – it’s knowing them, respecting them, understanding their boundaries. It’s whether they’re tense, relaxed, awkward, into what you’re doing...”

He takes a deep breath. “No one should tell you what consent is. You know what you’ve agreed to, what your partner’s agreed to, and you and your partner are the only ones who know what you’ve discussed.” He looks at Ray and tightens his grip on his knee. “I guess what I’m saying is, only you know what is right for you and everyone else should shut the fuck up.”

For the first time since he sat down, Ray looks at Gerard. He nods, slowly. 

“Yeah,” he says, his voice rough. “Okay. But still…” He bites his lip. “Make sure you know what whoever you’re having sex with wants, and you know them well enough to understand what they’re saying.”

Gerard nods, intent and sincere. “How do you do that?” he asks, and Ray looks down at Gerard’s hand on his knee. 

“I guess I ask? And listen when they tell me?” He looks up at Gerard. “And I pay attention to them while we’re… doing whatever we’re doing.”

“And if you’re not sure, you can ask them again,” Gerard says earnestly. “Someone asking you if you want to do this, if you’re enjoying it… that’s hot.”

“Yeah.” The corner of Ray’s mouth quirks up. “It is.”

“It really is,” Gerard grins. “Any sex when you’re really into it is hot.” He squeezes Ray’s knee again. “Like that blowjob Frank gave you was hot.” 

Ray nods. “It was,” he says, smiling shyly. “I mean, it kinda proved I am bi, so…”

“That’s good.” Gerard’s genuinely pleased for him, and he bumps Ray with his shoulder before turning back to the camera. “So, there you go. Consent.” He does vague jazz hands. “It changes lives and is genuinely the most important part of sex.”

He gives the camera his most sincere look, then leans forward and switches it off. 

He takes advantage of his back being to Ray to say what he really needs to say. “I am sorry though.”

“Oh.” Ray’s voice is small and it makes Gerard’s stomach twist.

“I didn’t mean it and I shouldn’t have said it.” He turns back to look at Ray. “You shouldn’t get fucked up because of the way I feel.”

“That’s okay.” Ray’s mouth twists into something that looks like a smile and he reaches out to touch Gerard’s arm. His eyes are kind, gentle. “I get that this is difficult for you. We all think you’re doing really well, you know.”

Gerard nods, because this stupid video is proving far more trouble than it’s worth, and he pushes into the heat of Ray’s hand until Ray pulls him into a rough hug. 

\--

“Really?” Brian asks, arching his eyebrow eloquently. “You want me to _what_?”

“Talk about safe sex,” Gerard says. “Cuz, you know. You’re responsible and…”

“Responsible,” Brian echoes grimly. “And, let me get this straight, you want me to do this…”

“For my sex ed video,” Gerard says, because they’ve been through this already. 

Brian sighs. “Did you even stop to think about how this could go wrong?” he asks, and then scowls at Gerard when he opens his mouth to answer. “Of course you fucking didn’t.” He stares at Gerard like Gerard might say something in reply to that, and when he doesn’t Brian shakes his head. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

Gerard grins, huge and enthusiastic. “Thanks,” he says. “You won’t regret it.”

“I’m already fucking regretting it,” Brian tells him. “And this whole thing is a stupid fucking idea, just so you know.”

“But?”

“But… I’m still gonna do it.” He waits and raises an eyebrow at Gerard. “Well? Put the fucking camera on then.”

Gerard scurries to comply. He’s not sure what Brian’s going to talk about, but he has pockets full of condoms and dental dams and lube, and, well… It not like he’s gonna complain about Brian using him to demonstrate on. 

Brian doesn’t move towards him, though. Instead he settles himself down in front of the camera, all bristling aggression and attitude. 

“They want me to talk about safe sex,” he says, by way of introduction. “Most of it’s fucking obvious.” He glares like the camera has personally offended him and leans forward.

“Get their name and address,” he says, holding up a finger, like he’s started ticking items off a list. “You think it’s a one night stand? You think you never want to talk to them again? Tough. You get their details anyway, just in case someone needs to follow up.”

He glares at Gerard, and Gerard flinches, remembering all the times Brian had to do that for him before he gave up drinking. Brian ticks up another finger. 

“Two. Always use protection. Even if they say they’re clean, they’re never fucking clean. And if by some miracle they are? You’re not. You want sex without condoms? You choose one partner. You get tested. You wait for three months. You get tested again. You talk about it. You show each other your results. You keep getting tested and you stay fucking faithful. You do not…” He levels his finger at the camera. “Ever fuck someone you don’t know without protection cuz you were drunk or lazy, then come running to your… friends in a panic because you can’t remember who you even fucked. And you know why you never do that? Because you never fuck someone without protection and you always get their fucking details.” 

Gerard bites his lip. He’s apologised to Brian before – he apologised to _everyone_ when he sobered up – but they never really talked about this, the messes that Brian had to clear up for him. For a second his finger hovers over the power button on the camera, but Brian shakes his head slightly and Gerard settles down again. 

“Three,” he continues, though his tone is a fraction softer now. “Shower first, for the love of god. It doesn’t matter who you are, sex is gonna be better if you’re clean when you start it. And while we’re discussing practicalities, remember to lock the fucking door. It’s not safe sex if anyone can walk in on you and get a picture that gets splashed across the internet, and you can probably assume your friends don’t want to see your pasty ass more than they have to.” 

Gerard raises an eyebrow, because his ass isn’t pasty, thank you very much, and Brian’s mouth twists into a tiny smile.

“Flowers in the morning are always a good idea,” he says. “Failing that, coffee. Leave them with something nice to remember and they’re less likely to make problems for you later on. Finally…” He leans back in his seat and grins hugely. “Don’t come up with elaborate schemes if you want to fuck someone. They’re rarely necessary, and even more seldom a good idea.” He fixes the camera with a look. “Just ask them, okay? The worst they can say is no.”

“What did you mean by that?” Gerard asks later when he’s packed up the camera and found Brian the biggest coffee he can. 

“What?” Brian pauses in pouring all the sugar packets he can find into his mug. “Showers? Keep telling you, they’re the future, Gee.”

“No.” Gerard shoves Brian with his shoulder. “About elaborate schemes.”

Brian looks at him, his mouth dropping open. “What?”

“Elaborate schemes,” Gerard says again. “You seemed to be talking about something particular. Just wondered why it was.”

“Seriously?” Brian puts his mug down with a clink that suggests he’s forcing himself to be careful. “ _Seriously_?” 

“Yeah.” Gerard looks at him, puzzled. “I mean, you don’t _have_ to tell me, but…”

Brian looks at him, like he’s grown another head. “Seriously, Way, you got to pull your head outta your ass sometime.” He picks his coffee up and looks at Gerard like he’s going to say something else. He doesn’t, though. He shakes his head and stalks off in the direction of the stage, leaving Gerard frowning after him in confusion. 

\--

“Frank?” Gerard asks, when he’s finished digging through his bunk, his duffle, and anything else he can lay his hands on. “Do you know where the camera is?”

“The camera?” Frank looks confused, and Gerard sighs.

“Yeah.” He raises an eyebrow in a manner he hopes conveys _the camera we’re taping a sex tape on_. “The camera.”

Frank blinks at him for a second, reminding Gerard of nothing so much as the hamster in Miss Bateman’s second grade class. Then his eyes widen.

“Shit,” he says. “The camera.”

Gerard nods, fervently and profoundly thankful that Frank finally understands. 

“Yeah,” is all he says though. “You seen it?”

“Ugh.” Frank levers himself up off the narrow benches that masquerade as sofas on this damn bus. “Where did you last see it?”

Gerard chews his lip and thinks. “My bunk?” he guesses. “I mean, maybe? I haven’t used it since we recorded Brian’s bit, so…” 

He looks away, unwilling or unable to confess that while he hasn’t been recording anything for the last few days, he might have been… reviewing the tape. Specifically reviewing the parts of the tape with Frank on them. Maybe. 

“Brian?” Frank’s voice is very careful, very controlled, and when Gerard looks up his lips are pulled into a thin line. “You had sex with _Brian_?”

For some reason he looks furious, and Gerard wonders if he’s mad he missed out on the filming. 

“Don’t worry,” he says, trying to be comforting. “It wasn’t like a full scene or anything. He was just teaching the kids about safe sex.” 

Frank makes a choking noise. “How…” he starts. “What…” He breaks off and shakes his head. “You had sex with Brian?” he says again. 

“No. I just _said_. Brain gave the kids a lecture on safe sex. You know. The one he usually gives us.” Gerard frowns as he remembers what Brian had said. “It wasn’t quite what I’d hoped for, but…”

“Brian’s never given me a safe sex lecture,” Frank says, and Gerard stares at him. 

“Huh. Maybe he figures you’re sorted out?” he suggests and something complex flashes across Frank’s face that’s gone too quickly for Gerard to process. 

“Maybe.” He scuffs the toe of his Converse on the sticky vinyl of the bus floor. “So… you haven’t seen the camera since you filmed that?” 

“I brought it back onto the bus,” Gerard says, and prays to whatever gods will listen to him that Frank won’t ask why he’s so sure about this. “But when I went to find it this afternoon…”

Frank raises an eyebrow. “You wanted to record another section?”

“No.” Gerard shakes his head, not sure why he’s suddenly feeling so defensive about this. “I just…” He pauses, cuz he needs Frank to know that he wasn’t planning on recording anything without him… but at the same time, the truth is not an option. “I just needed to be sure that the tape was safe. Like… it wasn’t somewhere someone could get their hands on it.” He shrugs. “You know.”

“Yeah.” Frank’s looking at him like he’s finally understanding something. “You don’t want to end up on the internet, do you?”

“Brian would kill us,” Gerard says fervently, and Frank finally laughs. 

“Better find it then,” he says, shoving Gerard with his shoulder. “You looked in the lounge?”

They finally find it in Mikey’s bunk of all places, and Gerard does not want to even consider why that is. 

Sadly the answer becomes all too apparent when Frank rewinds the last twenty minutes of the tape and starts to play it back. 

“Is that Pete Wentz?” Gerard asks, faintly, hoping against hope that it isn’t. Frank nods.

“And Mikey,” he adds, just in case Gerard couldn’t recognise his own brother. “And yes. They’re both wearing panties.” He grins, and Gerard struggles to remember why he ever thought Frank was his friend. “ _Lacy_ panties.” 

“Oh,” Gerard says, trying not to show exactly how intensely horrified he is by this. “So, we should skip this, right?” His eyes light up. “Or delete it! We could delete it?”

“Nah.” Frank pushes Gerard onto what masquerades as a sofa during tour then pushes in next to him, like Gerard’s his designated beanbag for the afternoon. “We’re gonna watch this, and then we’re gonna make fun of Mikey _forever_.” 

There’s an edge of unholy glee to his tone and Gerard knows better than to argue with him when he’s like this. But it still takes Frank ten minutes of enthusiastic _persuasion_ before Gerard agrees – and even then he only does so because Frank tells him it’s for the good of the movie that they review it. 

Whatever. Gerard gives in with very poor grace and the only reason he slings his arm around Frank’s shoulders is that if he’s doomed to watch his brother (ew!) and Pete Wentz (also ew. A bit less ew, but still) attempting kinky sex (EWWW) then he’s damn well going to be comfortable while he’s doing it. 

Frank makes a pleased noise and closes the last tiny distance between them.

“Shall I press play?” he asks with a small triumphant smile on his face, and Gerard sighs and nods. 

Frank was right. The panties that Mikey and Pete are wearing can only be described as lacy. Well… that’s not wholly true. They could also be described as _tiny_ , _revealing_ , or even – if you really wanted – _obscene_. Obscene, Gerard decides, is a good word for them, especially as Pete turns around and squints down at the camera.

“You sure this is on?” he asks, tapping the side of it until Mikey pulls him back by the shoulder. 

“Yes,” he says, sounding exasperated and fond. “The red light’s on, see?”

“Yeah,” Pete replies, but he doesn’t sound sure. “And you think Gee will let me be on it?”

“Why’s this so important to you?” Mikey asks, going back to slump against a work surface. Pete pouts. 

“I mean, it’s not like the other stuff wasn’t good?” he starts. “But he’s never gonna cover kink, is he?” He looks away from the camera, away from Mikey. “It’s important that kids know there’s more than one way to do this. That if you enjoy something, and everyone’s on board with it, you should go ahead and do what you want.”

Mikey nods and steps back into Pete’s space so he can rest his hand on Pete’s bicep, covering the spread of tattoos with his fingers. 

“Gee won’t even know it’s on here,” he says, sounding utterly sure. “He’ll work out I took the camera and he’ll get Frank to watch it rather than risk watching it himself.” He turns and looks directly at the camera. “And Frank’s gonna tell him to leave it on, aren’t you Frank?”

“Fuck,” Frank mutters, then when Gerard looks at him, he shrugs. “He’s got me. I’m not gonna let him down.”

“I know,” Gerard tells him, because yeah. Of course Frank’s going to do whatever Mikey asks him. He always does. 

“Cool,” Pete says, dragging Gerard’s attention back to the tape. “So… whaddya wanna do, Mikes?” There’s a seductive lilt to his voice, and he puts his hands on Mikey’s waist, letting his fingers brush the top of his panties, like this is familiar territory for both of them, and Gerard _really_ didn’t plan on ever knowing this much about his baby brother’s sex life. 

Mikey takes a deep breath and his face hardens into sterner lines than Gerard’s seen on it before. 

“Turn around,” he says. “Put your hands on the bench.” 

Gerard sees the bob of Pete’s Adam’s apple as he swallows, but he turns and obeys Mikey, standing with his legs apart, bending over slightly with his hands braced against the work surface while Mikey watches, impassively. 

“Wait,” Frank says, and Gerard can feel a sudden tension thrumming through his body. “Is that _our_ kitchenette?”

“Maybe?” Gerard says, cuz yeah. That’s about right. Apparently he’ll watch Mikey in panties do unthinkable things to Pete, but kitchen sex is his line in the sand. 

Frank starts to move and Gerard tightens his hold around his shoulders. “Oh no.” He glares at Frank. “If I have to watch this, then you have to watch it too.” He shakes his head at the small noise of protest Frank makes. “You can clean the kitchen later.”

Frank makes a small, sulky noise, but he settles back against Gerard, his eyes widening slightly as he sees what’s on the screen.

“Is Mikey…”

“Spanking Pete,” Gerard says, resigned to his fate now. “Yeah.”

“Oh,” Frank says, with a lot of apparent interest and no obvious qualms in watching Mikey steadily and methodically hitting Pete’s ass until the skin starts to glow rosy and pink. “I never knew Mikey was into that.”

“Nor did I,” Gerard says, although if he thinks about it, puts together some of the clues Mikey’s left in the people he’s brought home and the things he’s said afterwards, then maybe that’s not strictly true. “But he does, so…” He shrugs. “I guess I support him with that.” 

Frank hums, while in front of them the pink of Pete’s ass gets deeper and deeper. They watch until he’s making throaty little moans, until Mikey stops spanking Pete and runs his fingers over his ass. 

“Your skin’s warm,” he says, calmly, then: “And my hand’s sore.”

That makes Pete laugh, and Mikey frowns as he scans the work surface, looking at the few available cooking tools the bus came supplied with. 

“No,” Frank says, sounding horrified. “Not the fucking spatula!”

Mikey seems to have no such qualms though, and he grabs the wooden spatula that Gerard’s fairly sure he last saw when Frank was making pancakes the other day. 

“Ready?” Mikey asks, but he doesn’t wait for Pete to reply. 

There’s something hypnotic about the striking of the spatula against Pete’s skin, and Gerard’s started to relax now that it seems like there won’t be any actual sex happening. 

“You think that hurts?” he asks, and Frank shrugs. 

“Pete seems to be enjoying it.” He grins at Gerard. “Though that doesn’t really answer your question.”

“Yeah.” Gerard chews his lip and Frank presses closer.

“Why? You wanna try it yourself?”

“I… don’t think so?” Gerard says, not sure how he feels about that. “Maybe one day, you know?” He feels Frank stir and snaps back to himself. “I mean, we don’t need to for the video, so…”

“Yeah.” Frank pulls away slightly. “Of course. The _video_ doesn’t need it…”

“Wait.” Pete’s voice comes, high and thready from the speakers. “I need… I… Mikes…”

“I got you,” Mikey says, and as he turns Pete around and kisses him, Gerard is suddenly and viscerally aware of how hard and desperate Pete is. 

He’s still making pathetic, needy, mewling noises when Mikey breaks the kiss, but all Mikey does is smile at him. 

“You had enough?” he asks and Pete nearly sobs.

“Yeah,” Pete says. “ _Yes_. Mikey… I need... Can you…”

Mikey laughs at that, spinning Pete around and jerking down his panties in one smooth movement until they’re pooled on the floor at Pete’s feet. 

“I don’t know what you’re asking,” he says, but he’s already dropped to his knees and is holding the cheeks of Pete’s ass apart so he can lean in and lick across Pete’s asshole. 

Even on the shitty small screen they’re watching on Gerard can see the effect is electric. 

“Fuck,” Pete says, the words sounding like a prayer. “Mikey, Mikey, _Mikey_...”

His knuckles are white where they’re gripping the kitchen bench, and Gerard’s fairly sure it’s only Mikey’s hands on his hips that are keeping him upright. 

But Mikey doesn’t let up. He licks and he licks, and the camera catches it all. The filthy-slick sounds of his tongue moving, the way his jaw works, every broken noise and caught breath that spills from Pete’s lips. 

But all he does is lick. He doesn’t reach around, doesn’t touch Pete’s cock, and in the end Pete is begging – nonsense words that he can’t seem to stop. 

Next to Gerard, Frank shifts uncomfortably, and Gerard can understand that. He’s fairly sure he’d feel the same – you know, if this wasn’t his brother. 

“Mikey,” Pete begs, his voice cracking. “ _Please_...”

Mikey pulls away and Gerard can see his swollen lips, the sheen of saliva dripping down his tongue. 

“You come on my tongue,” he says, “or you don’t come at all.”

Pete sobs, and Frank’s breath catches as he stays rigidly still under Gerard’s arm. Gerard’s not sure that Pete can make it – and he’s even less sure when he started rooting for him in all this… But Pete can and he does, sobbing his release like it’s somewhere between pain and relief when it happens. 

They don’t look away. Not until Mikey pulls free and, with his hand flat on the small of Pete’s back like he needs to keep him tethered, reaches out to the camera and flicks it off. Only then do Frank’s eyes dart to the kitchenette. 

“Do we have any bleach?” he asks faintly, glaring at the kitchenette like a) Pete’s come can infect him from here and b) that is the worst thing that’s happened in the kitchen on this tour. 

“Maybe,” Gerard says. “But make Mikey do it.” He thinks. “Or Pete.”

“Yeah,” Frank says, sounding thoughtful. “So…”

“So?”

“You haven’t done penetrative sex,” Frank says, staring off into the distance. “You know. For the video.”

“We haven’t,” Gerard agrees, not sure where Frank is going with this. 

“Do you think we should?”

Gerard bites his lip. 

“We don’t want the kids to get heteronormative ideas about sex meaning penetration,” he says carefully, and Frank makes a noise that could be classed as agreement. 

“But they’re gonna try it,” he says at last. “Aren’t they?” It’s a good argument, and Gerard’s been a teenager, and… he nods. “You should show them how to do it,” Frank says. 

It’s a good argument, and it’s tempting, but...

“It’s not like jerking off, Frankie,” Gerard says gently. “It’s not something I can show them on my own.”

“I know that,” Frank says. “Idiot. I, uh, thought I could help out again.”

“Oh.” That really _is_ tempting, but it only takes Gerard a few short breaths to think about his reaction to Frank before, about the weird messed up feelings in his chest. “Yeah,” he says carefully. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Oh.” Frank pulls away from him completely. “Well, uh. It was just an idea, I guess.” His eyes are darting around the bus, clearly looking for an escape route, and Gerard takes a breath, needing to explain what he means. “Uh, I need to…”

He doesn’t wait for Gerard to respond. He’s off the sofa and almost out the door before Gerard can force a single noise past his lips. 

And he knows how fast Frank moves when he’s like this – there’s no point in trying to chase him right now. 

Instead Gerard takes a few deep breaths and goes to tuck the camera safely in his bunk. Then he does what he always does when things stop making sense; he goes to talk to Mikey.

\--

Mikey is… less than helpful. 

For a start he won’t stop laughing. 

Gerard tries to wait him out, but he only has so much patience right now and in the end there is the sort of brotherly tussle that involves poking Mikey in the ribs while doing his best to avoid his weapons-grade elbow attacks and – eventually – sitting on him.

“I cannot believe you’re mocking my pain,” he tells the wriggling body under him sternly. “I need your advice, Mikey.”

“You need my advice,” Mikey wheezes, “because you’ve worked out you have feelings for Frank and you think you shouldn’t have sex with him because it’s not fair?”

“Exactly.” Gerard scowls. “He’d only be doing it to help with the video and…” He bites his lip, aware he’s being petulant, not sure how to say that he wants _more_ than that.

“We are talking about Frank, right?” Mikey asks, and the amusement in his tone makes something very close to anger coil in Gerard’s chest. 

“Yes?” he replies, trying to keep it from his tone, knowing that Mikey knows him well enough he’s already guessed. 

“The same Frank who’s been hopelessly in love with you for years?” Mikey asks in a singsong voice. “The Frank who’d do anything to get your attention? Even appear in a stupid-ass sex ed video?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gerard snaps, letting his weight rest a little more firmly on Mikey as punishment. “We’re friends. That’s all.” He pokes Mikey in the ribs when Mikey makes a scoffing noise. “I’d have noticed if he felt like that.”

“Gerard,” Mikey says, his tone very gentle. “You wouldn’t notice how Frank feels if his feelings were a separate entity shaped like a giant sparkly blue elephant that followed you around and trumpeted at you constantly.”

“I would,” Gerard says, and Mikey takes advantage of him picturing what this creature would look like to escape out from under him. 

“Look at the video again, if you don’t believe me. Really look at it this time, and then make up your mind.” He straightens his t-shirt, slipping back from being Gerard’s little brother into his effortlessly cool musician pose. “Because I’m right. He’s crazy about you and you’re a fucking idiot if you can’t see that.”

He stalks off, leaving Gerard to dig out the camera. This time when he watches, he carefully keeps his hand out of his pants, and yeah. So, maybe Mikey might have a point? The looks Frank gives him when he thinks no one is looking, the way he’ll do anything Gerard asks… Gerard has no idea why he never noticed that at the time. 

There’s enough there to give him food for thought at least, but it still takes him a couple of hours of brooding over shitty backstage coffee before he can work up the courage to go find Frank. 

“Hey,” he says, when he finds him at last, holed up with Patrick Stump of all people, guitars in both their hands and scarily similar looks of concentration on their faces. “Can I have a word?” 

“Busy,” Frank replies without looking up, but when Gerard doesn’t move, he sighs. “Back later,” he says to Patrick, and trails after Gerard like he’s on his way to the electric chair or something. 

“I’m sorry,” Gerard says as soon as they are out of earshot. “I was being a jerk.”

Frank sniffs. “You just said how you felt. Nothing to apologize for.”

“No,” Gerard says, putting his hand on Frank’s arm to stop him walking away. “There is. I… wasn’t telling the truth, and I’m sorry. I guess I was confused or something.”

“You said no.” Frank juts his chin up, and Gerard knows he’s only a hair’s breadth away from being angry. “That doesn’t seem confused to me.” 

“I didn’t say no. I said it might not be a good idea.” Gerard looks at Frank, willing him to understand. “That’s not the same as not wanting to.” He shuffles his feet. “Cuz I do. You know. Want to.”

For a second he thinks that might not be enough and Frank will walk away again, but then Frank nods slowly. 

“Not a good idea,” he echoes. “Well…” He looks up at Gerard and grins. “I’m like the patron saint of bad ideas.”

“You are,” Gerard tells him fervently. Frank reaches out almost shyly and tangles their fingers together. 

“Does that mean we should… you know. Um. Record that bit for the video?”

Gerard’s nodding before he’s even finished speaking.

“Yeah,” he says, and Frank’s fingers tighten on his. “But… I was thinking next hotel night?” He swallows. “You know, so there’s a bit of time to do it properly?”

“Sure,” Frank says, and steps back. He lets go of Gerard’s hand, but he’s grinning now and that in itself makes something in Gerard relax. “Next hotel night.”

He waits for Gerard to nod before he turns away and walks back to whatever he was doing with Patrick, but Gerard doesn’t think he’s imagining the spring in Frank’s step – or the curious warm feeling inside his chest.

In fact the only downside to all this is going to be telling Mikey he was right. 

\--

He’s not really expecting to feel as nervous as he actually does by the time they get off stage and get back to the hotel a few days later. 

Honestly, he’d spent most of the drive back wondering if he was doing the right thing, or if he should just call the whole thing off. He still hasn’t come to a decision as he follows Frank into the room and watches him throw himself onto the bed. 

“Ugh,” Frank grunts with the sort of bone-weary relief that only comes from lying on something soft after roughly an eternity of sleeping on uncomfortable shelves in a rancid smelling, moving vehicle. “Is there time for a shower first? I smell like ass.”

“Sure,” Gerard says, and Frank pauses.

“You could join me if you liked? You know…” He shoots Gerard a hopeful look. “Scrub my back for me.”

“Sounds good,” Gerard says, his mouth suddenly dry. “But I gotta set up in here.”

It’s the truth, for a given value of true, and where “set up in here” means “freak the fuck out and wonder if he should call this off.” He could change his name, he decides as he hears the shower turn on. Dwight Rodgers has a ring to it. He could find a job in a call centre and…

“I thought you were setting up?” Frank says and Gerard sits up from where he was starfished on the bed. 

“Relaxation is important,” he says, mock offended, and smiles as Frank laughs at him. 

It’s hard _not_ to smile at Frank right now. He looks good, a white towel riding low around his waist and water dripping from the curls of his wet hair down onto his chest. And he’s smiling at Gerard like he’s the only person in the room – which he kinda _is_? But it’s the smile Frank usually uses with him, and Gerard can’t believe he never noticed it before now. 

“Is the camera ready?” Frank asks, and Gerard suddenly knows what to do. 

“Let me sort that out,” he says. “You get onto the bed.”

“Okay.” Frank hesitates, biting his lip. “Um… How do you want me?”

“Lie back,” Gerard says, fucking with the camera to buy time. “You can take the towel off if you’re ready.”

“Sure,” Frank says and there’s a dull, damp _thwack_ of fabric against Gerard’s back as the towel hits him. 

He turns around and raises his eyebrow, but Frank grins, wide and unrepentant. 

“Gonna make me pay for that?” he asks. “Am I gonna need a safeword?”

“Oh no,” Gerard says, starting to make his way across the room with all the swagger he’d use on stage, his fingers pulling at his shirt, teasing Frank with glimpses of the skin underneath. “You’re perfectly safe with me.” 

He’s expecting Frank to bite back with another joke, but he just nods, his eyes wide and dark as he watches Gerard make his way towards him, shedding clothes in his wake. 

“Like what you see?” Gerard asks as he shimmies out of his too-tight jeans, executing a nifty little two-step to pull them off when they catch on his ankles.

“Yeah,” Frank says, his voice cracking, and he reaches out to Gerard, only pulling his hands back at the last second. “Can I?”

“Course you can,” Gerard tells him, not sure why this of all things is making his heart clench in his chest, and Frank puts his hands on his waist and Gerard climbs over Frank, supporting himself over him on all fours, keeping just enough space that they aren’t touching yet. 

Frank licks his lips, his eyes darting from Gerard’s eyes to his mouth and then back, like he’s trying to memorise his face. 

“Shouldn’t you be narrating?” he asks in a low voice, and Gerard smiles, wide and feral, and dips down until his lips are a few scant millimeters from Frank’s skin.

“You sure?” he asks and smiles when Frank’s breath catches. 

He pulls back until there’s clear space between them, even though Frank’s fingers tighten possessively on him. 

“There’s something to be said,” he says in a louder voice – a narrating voice – even though he doesn’t look away from Frank for a second, “about having your partner laid out for you like this.” He braces himself on one arm and skims the back of his hand down Frank’s body, from the soft curve of his throat, down over his chest, until it comes to rest on Frank’s belly. “It’s so easy to touch them.” 

He runs his fingers carefully over Frank’s skin. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says. “I can’t believe you’re letting me do this with you.”

Frank makes a scoffing noise and tries to turn his head away, but positioned like this, Gerard can dip his head and nuzzle at Frank’s jaw. 

“Seriously,” he whispers, just for them, “you’re magic, Frankie. You’re sunshine. You’re music. I want you so much.”

He turns his hand over and runs it back up until he can rub his thumb over Frank’s nipple. Frank makes a startled noise and bucks up under him, and Gerard grins, shifting down enough until he can lick over the nipple, bite it, lick it again. 

“Did we need to cover erogenous zones?” he asks Frank in a low voice. “Do I need to _demonstrate_ on you?”

“Later,” Frank says, and there’s a thready note of desperation to the word. “Not now, Gee… I need…”

“I know,” he tells Frank in a whisper, and then, louder: “And it’s so easy to control them like this.”

He shifts until he’s straddling Frank’s stomach and reaches down to take Frank’s wrists in his hands. 

“You can hold them down if you need to,” he says, and pushes Frank’s hands above his head, pinning them in place with one hand. “Which can be useful for all sorts of things.”

The thing is, he’s fairly sure that Frank’s expecting Gerard to fuck him. They haven’t discussed it, but there’s something about the way Frank’s been dealing with this, maybe because it was Gerard who fingered him back at the start of all this. 

So he understands the way Frank’s eyes crinkle in confusion as Gerard fumbles for the lube with his free hand then reaches back around himself and starts to finger himself open.

“What…” Frank starts, and Gerard shakes his head. 

“Shhhh.” He bites his lip as he slides a second finger into himself, more interested in getting himself properly lubed up than in stretching. He can cope with this, he knows that, and he wants Frank in him. 

It’s only when he reaches for the condom and tears the package open with his teeth that Frank’s eyes widen in understanding. He makes the prettiest whimpering noises as Gerard lets go of his wrists to put the condom on him, and his eyes shiver shut when Gerard slicks him up with lube. 

“Next time,” he says into Frank’s ear as he tucks the lube under the pillow, “we’re gonna get tested so we can do this bare.”

“Fuck,” Frank says like a prayer. “Gee…”

“This is a great position,” Gerard says, louder, taking hold of the base of Frank’s cock, “if you’re nervous about having sex with someone, or if you’re still learning where your limits are.” He hisses as he lines Frank up and starts to sink down on him, doing his best to ignore the look on Frank’s face and the noises he’s making. “You can control how fast you go, how deep you take them. I mean...” He leans over Frank, bracing himself on his arms, letting the head of Frank’s cock push into him over and over. “You can keep things shallow, or…” He sits up, sinks all the way down while Frank makes a noise like he’s dying. “You can take them in as deep as you want.”

He rolls his hips, partly to see the look on Frank’s face, partly because… yes…

“This position gives you most control over how much pressure goes on your prostate.” He moans. “Cuz you might not want so much, or you might want…”

“Gee?” Frank’s voice is slightly frantic. “Gee, you need to hold still _right now_.”

Gerard freezes, but he can’t help but squeeze around Frank’s cock, because it feels so good, so full. Frank groans. 

“Gonna make me come,” he says, his eyes screwed shut as if the sight of Gerard, hard and flushed with pleasure, might make him come before he’s ready. 

“Maybe I want to,” Gerard tells him and runs his fingers over Frank’s lips just for the pleasure of watch him suck them into his mouth. 

“Not yet,” Frank begs around Gerard’s hand. “Just… please…”

“Course the other thing about this position,” Gerard says, pulling his fingers free, “is that you can kiss your partner as much as you want.”

He tries to keep his hips as still as he can while he leans forward and bites at Frank’s lips until Frank opens his mouth with a desperate noise and kisses Gerard like he’ll never get another chance to do it. 

It would be so easy here to lose himself in the kiss, to let it build until they both come, but he’s not sure that’s what Frank wants, and anyway, he has a plan…

He pulls away, presses a last kiss to Frank’s parted, swollen lips. 

“But the best thing about this position is being able to watch your partner’s face while you’re doing this. Cuz sometimes…” His eyes flutter shut and he forces them open again. “Sometimes you’ll want it quick and dirty, but sometimes you’re going to want to spend time on the person you’re with.” He smiles down at Frank and rolls his hips. “Especially if they’re someone you have feelings for.”

He smiles at Frank’s gasp and rolls his hips again, looking right into Frank’s eyes. “It feels different when you love the person you’re with, doesn’t it, Frankie?”

“Yes,” Frank says, like the admission is being dragged out of him. “Yes… Gee…”

His hands are clutching at Gerard’s hips, and he’s bucking up under Gerard, not even trying to hold himself back any more. 

Gerard folds down over him, fucks himself on his cock like he’s wanted to from the start, kissing the small broken noises Frank is making from his lips. 

It doesn’t take long for Frank to come, and after that it takes a bare dozen strokes for Gerard to follow him, his come splashing warm and wet between them, marking Frank, marking him as Gerard’s.

He collapses over Frank after that, Frank’s cock still inside him while he presses messy, breathy kisses to Frank’s jaw and neck and cheeks. 

“Fuck,” Frank says, sounding awed. “Gee…” He breaks off and Gerard feels him craning his head. “Gerard… The camera…”

“Yeah.” With his face hidden in Frank’s skin, Gerard can be brave. “I didn’t want this to be about that.” He kisses Frank’s neck, relaxing slightly when Frank doesn’t push him away. “I never turned it on. This should just be for us.” 

“Oh.” Frank runs his fingers down his spine, and Gerard shivers, partly as he cools down, partly from the touch. “So, what does this mean?” 

“That Brian was right,” Gerard mutters. 

“Brian?” Frank shifts and tangles his fingers in Gerard’s hair so he can move his head until he can see his face. “What did Brian say?” 

“Ugh.” Gerard tries to hide his face, but Frank’s hold is relentless. “That I shouldn’t use elaborate schemes when I want to have sex with someone.”

Frank lets go of his hair and when Gerard hides his face again, he pets his head, his back, all the parts of Gerard he can reach. 

“And you did?” he asks in a small voice. “Want to have sex with me?” 

“I dunno,” Gerard says, his voice muffled by Frank’s shoulder. “Does this feel like sex to you?” 

Frank’s fingers still. “I dunno,” he says sounding strangely constrained. “It felt like making love to me.” He presses a kiss to Gerard’s cheek. “Does it feel like _making love_ to you, Gee?”

Gerard turns his face sharply, and catches sight of Frank. His expression is positively angelic and he’s doing something he clearly believes is batting his eyelashes at Gerard. Gerard snorts. 

“Dick,” he says, and rolls off Frank, wincing slightly as Frank’s cock comes free. “Don’t know why I even bother putting up with you.”

“Because you love me,” Frank says in a sing-song voice, wriggling his way into Gerard’s arms and blinking up at him with an expression that’s probably only half assumed. 

“Fuck you,” Gerard says, but he kisses Frank’s forehead which probably robs his words of their authority. 

“This is us then?” he asks when Frank’s been still long enough that Gerard thinks he might have fallen asleep, but Frank stirs and kisses his chest. 

“Yeah,” he says and kisses the top of Frank’s head. “This is us.”

Frank hums, a small pleased noise. “And that video?”

“Eh.” Gerard tightens his hold around him and wonders how soon they’ll be up for round two. “Let the biographers find it.”

It’s not like Gerard’s been secretly harboring fantasies of a career as a porn director, after all. He just…. really likes Frank, is the thing.

The kids can probably figure stuff out on their own.


End file.
